


Potential Breakup Song

by andromedasgalaxy



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Canon ending for Jack? Never happened, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28880295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedasgalaxy/pseuds/andromedasgalaxy
Summary: It’s your birthday, and all you want to do is have a few drinks with your boyfriend, but when he doesn’t show, your coworker, Jack, takes it upon himself to check on you.Cross posted on tumblr under ohnopoe.
Relationships: Jack | Whiskey (Kingsman)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	Potential Breakup Song

Sitting there alone at the little booth you had claimed over an hour earlier certainly wasn’t how you had expected the evening to go. You had been happy, excited even, when you finally grabbed your coat to leave Statesmen for the day, readying yourself for a proper, fun night out with your boyfriend. 

Sure, you’d had to remind him twice already to meet you at the little bar you liked that was not far from work, and _sure_ maybe it would have been fun to invite some friends too, but this was your birthday, and even having a few drinks with your man seemed better than nothing.

But the day had seemed to drag on, as if it knew you were anticipating the well-needed break.

With every knock on the door, a part of you couldn’t help but hope for something, although you couldn’t quite tell _what_.

Would it have been nice if your coworkers had realised what day it was? Sure. But then, hiding it off facebook had been your decision, and you couldn’t truly blame them for not knowing when you were so careful about keeping things separate between work and home. But with each interruption to your work came a following disappointment. Reports were required, devices needed testing, and not one person seemed to have anything but more work to add to your pile.

Dread was dancing in your periphery, but you refused to give into it.

You had decided this. You had been the one to do that damn stupid idea and hide your information in some desperate plea that _someone_ would remember you even without the irritating little notification Facebook offered. You couldn’t blame others for your own actions, no matter how much it hurt to feel so damned forgotten on your birthday of all things.

But, as you sat alone in the booth at your favourite bar, well, that dread sure was starting to egg away at you.

Another glance at your phone, a silent reminder of just how long you’d been waiting along with the lack of any explanation, only helped solidify your negativity. What if he wasn’t coming? What if he’d forgotten too?

The drink you’d been nursing for the better part of an hour sat before you, the ice had melted into the mix, making it weak and watery as you took a hesitant sip once more. If he wasn’t there by the time you finished, you’d leave. That’s what you’d said to yourself some thirty minutes ago when the drink had arrived. But even you could see you were drawing out the inevitable now, taking slow sips in the hopes of prolonging what little chance there was.

“Either that’s the worst damn drink you’ve ever had, or somethin’s on your mind,” a familiar voice almost cooed from above you, amusement tangling with something you couldn’t quite place as the silhouette of Agent Whiskey blocked out a good portion of the bar.

Offering a half hearted smile, you took a determined gulp of the drink in your hand, stubbornly meeting his gaze as you did so. There was always something about the agent that brought out a fierce competitive side in you, and maybe it was the sheer determination to not appear as pathetic as you felt, but you found yourself offering a smirk as you placed it down on the table without a word, silently challenging him.

“Alright, maybe not,” he offered a chuckle, lips pulling into a smile and drawing out that dimple that caught far too much attention.

“Something I can help you with, Whiskey?” and damn it, _that_ didn’t come off half as harsh as you had hoped. Hell, it didn’t even come off sarcastic. The usual fire in your tone seemed lost, and you could only hope he didn’t hear the way your voice broke ever so slightly with the question.

You weren’t used to this. You’d kept your private life private for a reason, kept yourself away from the work functions and the celebratory drinks in the hopes of distancing yourself from the people you worked with for the most part, and now, having him in front of you out in the real world, when you were already so damn close to breaking… it wasn’t something you were quite prepared for.

“You looked like you could use some company,” he answered simply with a shrug, and if his eyes hadn’t blazed with that intensity you’d seen so often when he was in the field, you might just have believed he was as nonchalant as he attempted to appear.

But his statement brought another thought, more harrowing than the last, and you had to take another sip of your drink to wet your suddenly dry throat as it plagued you.

“How long have you been watching me?”

With a sigh, that playful smirk you’d seen so often slipped from his lips. With a quick point to the opposite side of the booth, he waited until you nodded your consent before slipping in with yet another sigh, but still he didn’t answer your question.

“Don’t see you around here often,” and it _almost_ sounded like a line, were it not for the curious way his gaze took you in as he spoke.

Your shrug was an attempt at something casual, but you knew he was too damn good at reading people to fall for that. “Maybe it wasn’t my idea,” _it was_. “Maybe someone asked me here,” _they didn’t._

But he seemed to read more from your words than you thought you had offered, his attention falling from you to the drink in your hand, before darting around the room and landing on the door.

“Well, he’s a damn fool to leave you waiting,” he huffed, and, while you still felt on edge being around the agent you worked with day in and day out, a small, albeit genuine, smile broke through your demeanour.

It was just a line, just a statement anyone would make upon hearing someone had potentially been stood up. Your mind was _screaming_ at you to remember that it didn’t truly hold the weight you desperately wished it did. But your heart clung to those words. 

Were you really this desperate for someone to actually care about you on your birthday that you were clinging to hollow words said out of propriety? Damn, maybe you were. Maybe Ginger had been right all along, you really _should_ go out with her some time, maybe having some real friends at work wouldn’t be all that bad after all.

“Alright, what about this,” Jack broke your harrowing line of thought with that charming smile he had down pat. “I buy you a drink, we relax, have a good time… if he shows, he shows, and I’ll leave y’all to it, if not, well, hopefully I’m not the _worst_ company.”

A laugh, the first you’d managed all day, escaped your lips as you shook your head at the cowboy’s poor attempt at humility.

“Why would you do that?” the question sounded meeker than you would have liked, and you had to glance away when his confused gaze met yours. But the bar was filled with distractions, even if it wasn’t particularly busy, and you quickly clung to them as you regained some sort of a backbone. “You know damn well half the bar is eyeing you off, you don’t need to waste your evening on me, Jack.”

If his breath caught at hearing your slip up, hearing you utter his name for the first time in far too long, well, he was damn good at hiding it behind that playful smirk. But there was still that shine to his gaze as he watched you so intently that you could feel it even as you focused on swirling the small remainders of your drink.

“And leave you to this lot?” he questioned playfully, raising a brow as he gestured around you both comically. “Honey, I know all too well what these types would do to a pretty lil thing like you, all alone.”

“You _would_ know,” you scoffed a laugh, and, damn it, how was it so easy to relax around him? You’d known him for years, sure, but never personally, always keeping that carefully concocted professional appearance in place.

“Darlin’, are you implying something here?” there it was, that playful lilt to his tone that he always seemed to offer at _just_ the right time, almost cracking your hard exterior more times that you’d care to admit.

“You forget, Whiskey,” you pause, giving him a pointed look that didn’t quite have its usual impact as your lips desperately struggled to hide that playful smile that wanted to break free. “I’ve been on the other end of the comms during _far_ too many of your missions. I know all too well what you’re capable of.”

The smirk he gave in response held a twinge of danger, his eyes lighting up as he leant forwards just enough to capture your full attention. This was a side of Jack you had seen through his glasses many times, a side he hadn’t shown you since you shot him down cold at the very beginning of your working together, and it was a side that could thrill even the most cold hearted of individuals, you were sure.

“Oh, darlin’, you have no idea.”

Well, _that_ certainly shouldn’t have affected you as much as it did.

You’d been working with Whiskey for years now, you knew all too well what he was like, how much he liked to flirt and mess around. You’d watched through his glasses camera on numerous occasions as he flirted his way into the beds of targets, each time rolling your eyes to yourself because _you’d_ surely never fall for something so cheesy. 

But then, you’d always been safely seeing things from his perspective, hadn’t you? You’d never seen that intense gaze he offered along with those words, never watched as his tongue darted out to wet those plush lips… damn, maybe you weren’t as strong as you had always thought.

“Babe, hey!” a puffed out breath came from beside you, drawing your attention away from the perfect cupid’s bow that was hidden behind that neatly trimmed moustache.

You almost jumped at the sound, turning quickly to see your boyfriend standing there, looking none too happy to see you sitting there with another man, and, despite the fact you’d been waiting for, _was that two hours now?_ , you felt guilt creep in.

“Hey!” you offered the brightest smile you could, even if it felt somewhat off as you glanced between the two men.

They couldn’t have been more different if they tried. One, the epitome of the suave cowboy, the other in what he so affectionally labelled ‘prime casual fashion’, or, as you secretly called it, jumped up t-shirts that had no right to charge as much as they did. Jack was leaning back in the booth, exuding comfort and confidence, while your boyfriend stood there glancing between you and Jack with a tense jaw. In fact, the only similarity between the two seemed to be the intense fire that sat in their gazes as they eyed one another up.

Oh good, yet another display of stupid macho masculinity. With a roll of your eyes, you cleared your throat, quickly gaining the attention of the silently feuding men. “Jack, this is my boyfriend, Tim-”

“ _Timothy_ ,” Tim interjected, standing up even straighter, as if the use of his full name would hold some form of power.

Closing your eyes to avoid rolling them once more as you watched him look down his nose at Whiskey, you ignored the interruption. “ _Tim,”_ you started once more, more than a hint of irritation in your tone at the fact the same man who had left you waiting for so long was now trying to play some kind of stupid game. “This is Jack, we work together.”

It seemed the two didn’t particularly care about introductions, or, for that matter, manners, as they continued to stare at one another in silence for a long moment.

“I’ll leave y’all to it,” Jack spoke suddenly, breaking the tense atmosphere with a nod as he moved far too smoothly out of the booth. How he always seemed to move with such elegance had often caused you to wonder. It didn’t seem to match the macho cowboy exterior he gave off, but worked so seamlessly when he was in a fight. It was a part of him, small and subtle, that had caught your attention more times than it ought.

Only when Tim sidled up next to you, pushing you further into the booth did your mind fall back to reality with a frown. Words were already falling out of his mouth, mentions of his day, of the clients he had dealt with, and not a word of apology for how late he was, and that same resignation you had felt earlier seemed to sweep over you once more.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Jack spoke softly, the words somehow a farewell. His smile was gentle as he met your surprised gaze.

And then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone, leaving the bar’s doors swaying after him as your boyfriend clambered for your attention.

**Author's Note:**

> This may turn into a series/series of oneshots, if it does they will be posted as separate chapters here!


End file.
